Let me fall asleep and dream of  monsters: not only the beautiful bats and owls of midnight, but also basilisks, krakens, chimeras, and hippogriffs, as well as monstrous ancestors like Enkidu, and Adam, and Ardipithecus. All are products, perhaps, of  sleep, or at least drowsiness, except for the last, who appears at first in the full  glare of empiricism, but once unveiled starts edging instantly toward myth. Reason and madness weave the same cocoon, and out of these miniature caves of metamorphosis emerge such lunatic moths and friendly ghosts as will carry me tonight to bed, to my own chrysalis of sweet unreason. El sueño de la razón produce monstruos hermosos.

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